


i'm in love, i'm in love, i'm in love

by orphan_account



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, F/F, Fluff, Kinda, death tw, kind of a thriller i guess, thelma and louise vibes, yeah I'm back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "This wasn’t forever. She knew it wasn’t forever, but every moment was starting to feel like days, and she was just so tired."or1950's AU, based on a tweet I made that captured the imagination. Gigi is married and cheating with the nice lady down the street. One day though, when her husband comes home early from work, she needs to make some decisions.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	i'm in love, i'm in love, i'm in love

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to a load of 50s tunes to get into the mood, and damn I was vibing

“Yes, Gigi! Yeah, yeah, right there!”

Gigi smiles from her place between Crystal’s thighs. She’s been working her for over half an hour now, bringing her to the brink only to draw her away just in time to stop her falling over the edge. Its her favourite game to play with Crystal on their lazy Friday mornings, when her husband is at work and they have the place to themselves. 

Crystal is writhing wildly against the sheets, thrashing helplessly while Gigi’s tongue laps at her folds, until she takes pity on her. She comes with a pained wail, fisting the covers and still as a board. Gigi almost wants to go for round two, but the exhaustion wafting from her love is tangible, and she slides up her body instead to kiss her. 

Its been a while since they started this affair. Almost a year actually, and the ever thoughtful part of Gigi thinks about how to celebrate that while Crystal deepens their kiss. She can barely move, but she’s nothing if not ever responsive. 

“You okay there, sweetie?” Gigi asks, propping her head up on Crystal’s heaving chest. She’s visibly amused, and Crystal struggles to answer her. “You want a glass of water?”

“Please.” 

Gigi leans up to give her a quick kiss, and wraps her body in one of her lighter house coats. It’s a gorgeous day out, hot enough that she doesn’t really need it, but the last thing she did need was nosy Susan around the corner getting a good look at her ass. 

The house is quiet and peaceful, the way she likes it, with Crystal sated upstairs in her bed, and the car missing from the driveway. 

She quickly collects the glasses from the press, making sure everything is in order as she goes, and fills them with water. Its afternoon by now, and she’s done none of her chores, but Fridays are special. She can get away with preparing a tv dinner instead of a feast on a Friday. 

Crystal is stretching out in bed like a cat when she returns, basking in the sunlight, and Gigi’s heart sings at the sight. She’s at her most beautiful like this, and though it still stings to know she cannot have this every day, it’s a fading thought. She has ideas to deal with that. 

She hands over the drink, love drunk smile still sitting comfortably on her face, and dives back under the covers, curling up against Crystal’s bare skin. She runs hotter than Gigi, perfect for cuddling, and basking in bed with her is truly as close to bliss as Gigi thinks she’s ever going to feel. Still, reality is an ever bothersome thing. 

“What time is it?” Crystal asks, voice hoarse. Gigi wonders how loud she really was, and if this is something they should address. 

“Not long after midday, we have time.”

Crystal makes a comfortable sound, settling into the bed, and Gigi lays her head on her chest. 

Crystal’s husband had died in the war. Its how they properly met. She had always just been the woman who lived up the road from Gigi, who was not the biggest gossip on the lane, and Gigi had not had it in her to go introducing herself without reason to beautiful women. But dropping up a casserole when she heard of her loss was easy, straightforward, and expected of her. An oddly fitting icebreaker it seems. 

There wasn’t an air of gloom in the house when she visited, not like she expected. Crystal had been bright and energetic, and Gigi had fallen for her quicker than an apple from a tree. Seems when your husband is gone for more than a few years, hearing of his death doesn’t come as quite the hit you might expect. Not for Crystal anyway. 

Gigi found herself spending more and more time at the young widow’s house, or Crystal would visit hers as she did her laundry, and even helped her with larger Sunday dinners when the weather was lousy and there was no fun to be had outside. And when the sun was bright, Crystal would steal her away to the beach. Its where they first kissed, in the shade of the dunes, with no one around to see them. 

Now, lying in bed with her, Gigi can’t imagine how she survived without this. Without her, in her life. And then the anger came, as it always did. Not at Crystal, never at her, but at him. 

He had never left, a coward with a ‘bum leg’ that didn’t actually exist, who stayed behind and lived to torment Gigi’s days. That wasn’t fully true. Richard was no wife beater, just a boring excuse for a lover and a worse conversationalist. He would never let her go. He know better than anyone that he wouldn’t marry again. He was lucky he was a wealthy man, but wealth mattered little in the long span of a lifetime. 

But Gigi had a solution for that. 

They lie in bed, relaxing in the comfortable Summer warmth and each other, until Gigi drifts into an easy sleep. It feels like less than a second, but when she jerks awake, its to the sound of a loud bang. 

“Gigi!” Crystal is shaking her, looking sleepy but wide eyed and panicked all the same. Its then that Gigi recognises the sound. The car. She can hear it rumbling just below the window, and it sends ice through her veins. 

“What time is it?”

“Only 2pm.” Gigi feels like ripping her hair out at the roots. 

“No, that’s to early. He’s not meant to be here.” She’s angry. Really angry. Because this is her time with Crystal, and its not to be interrupted. “Stay here.” 

Gigi gets up, and goes downstairs in bare feet, padding quietly on the hardwood floors, even as her muscles twitch with adrenaline. She doesn’t have a plan, but the blood is pounding in her ears loud enough to even drown out the slam of the front door. 

“Genevieve?” Richard’s voice is gruff, tired, and it sends rage up Gigi’s spine. 

“Yes?” 

“The boss is a good man, honey! He let me home early, to celebrate his new bride. Love really is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Gigi rounded the corner to se him, and there’s a sneer fighting its way onto her lips, hidden only by sheer will. “I have nothing prepared for dinner, I wasn’t expecting you home.” She says, but it doesn’t seem that Richard picks up on her frustration. 

“I can wait, get started when you’re ready. I never got to read the paper this morning, the streets weren’t so busy. A blessing and a curse, I say.”

Gigi hums her false agreement, and moves towards the kitchen. Richard was a man of leisure when he was at home, and for the first time, she’s grateful. The same leg that stopped him from being shipped out to war usually stopped him going upstairs before bedtime. She would be able to get Crystal out before then, and sends up a silent prayer that Crystal could keep all her limbs in order until then and keep quiet. 

Gigi can hear her husband opening up the newspaper, the crinkles of the pages loud and irritating as he flicks the pages. She sets about cutting up the vegetables, boiling water. She doesn’t want to leave Crystal alone too long, and her husband will eat just about anything. 

They exist together in silence as she works and he reads. Richard didn’t like music in the house, and as much as Gigi isn’t fussed regarding the latest tunes of the year, she would have killed for a radio to break the quiet. 

“Genevieve?” 

“Yes?”

“Is there a window open? There’s a draft.” 

Gigi stiffened. There was a window open. 

“I’m not certain. I’ll go and check.” She’s already wiping off her hands on a tea towel, and making sure the food is okay to be left alone, when he speaks up again. 

“Don’t trouble yourself, I need to change out of these work slacks anyway.” He’s rising from his chair just as panic does the same in Gigi’s throat.

“No, no, I need to change too.”

“Well then, we’re both going upstairs it seems.”

Gigi feels a sweat break out across her skin, but knows better than to argue. She is no wordsmith, and she’s sure she’ll bury herself if she tries to fight. “Seems we are.” She says instead, louder than she needs too, and hopes Crystal has the foresight to hide. 

It’s a painful walk to the bedroom door, agonising with every step, but when Richard’s hand finally turns the knob, there is an empty room before them. The clothes that littered the floor are no longer there, and the sheets are made, a little more rough than usual, but nothing Richard would notice. 

Gigi feels the anxiety leave her shoulders as he strides in, and makes his way to the wardrobe, where it spikes again. “Why don’t you freshen up before dinner, before you change?” She asks, stringing the words together from thin air, and hoping its enough. 

“I’m perfectly fine as I am.” He turns to look at her then. “I never asked, why are you in your house clothes? Its well into the day, are you well?” 

Gigi hoped her face doesn’t give her away. “I was not long out of the shower when you arrived home.” 

Richard seems like he wants to say more, to question her bone dry hair, but instead he wrenches open the closet door, and Gigi’s breath catches in her throat. 

“What the hell?” He asks, and Gigi feels like her chest is about to explode, before he reaches in, and draws his hand out with a shirt (her own) crumpled in her hand. “You need to fold these better, you know this can’t be thrown around.” He chides, and Gigi forces herself forward. 

“Of course.” She says, and takes the shirt from him. They change in relative silence, back to back, and Gigi catches movement out of the corner of her eye. 

“Shouldn’t you be going downstairs?” 

“What?” She asks. She’s finished already, standing dumbly in the middle of the room, her eyes trained on the bed. 

“To prepare the food? I don’t need you to dress me.” Richard laughs, a booming sound that’s much too deep. 

Gigi doesn’t want to leave, but can’t think of an excuse to stay. Crystal is nowhere to be seen, but she can almost sense her. She’s not sure if its paranoia, or just her own mind filling in for her absence, but her blood rushes through her body at the thought of being found out. 

She doesn’t know what Richard would do if he found out she was cheating. With a woman, nonetheless. She does know that she herself doesn’t actually want to find out. 

Still, there is no way she can hold out any longer, a silent referee, present in case a fight breaks out, and excuses herself. One last glance around the room still doesn’t reveal her lover, and she takes pleasure in that, if she can’t see her, Richard wouldn’t either. He was never a particularly observant man. 

Gigi stomps down to the kitchen, shaking in her heels, and her thoughts consumed with Crystal. She’s not stupid, and she trusts her to hold her own for a few minutes, but she’s angry again. 

This is their time. She waited all week for it, and he’s gone and ruined it. She stops into the utility room, retrieving the box she keeps hidden at the back of the press with the rest of the cleaning products. It’s a familiar set of actions, mechanical and with less of the guilt she had felt several weeks ago when it had first crossed her mind. 

The pasta is almost done, and she sprinkles in some power from the unmarked package, the logo covered up in duct tape to avoid any unnecessary conflicts. She doesn’t need anyone looking in at the wrong time, and get the right idea. 

Gigi supposes that she is not exactly normal. She’s known as much her while life, but had always pushed it aside, the way she did on her wedding day. Those abilities had become less fine tuned since she had met Crystal, and that became more and more acceptable as time went by. 

She neglects to measure out anything, because there is something boiling over under the surface of her skin, something that sees the little greyish power dissolving into the water and takes as much pleasure in it as she would a fine wine, or a night away from this house. It only takes a moment, before she is draining the pasta and preparing it all onto a plate for her husband. 

Gigi can hear him coming down the stairs, his heavy footsteps thundering above the sound of her own blood in her ears. 

“Here you go.” She cannot bare to call this man by a petname anymore. Those were for Crystal only. It feels like a betrayal to use even the most basic of positive language towards the man she lived with now, and Gigi is sick of pretending all the time. 

She pays no heed to the repercussions as she places the plate down before Richard, and watches him eat without thought. 

“Aren’t you having any?” He asks, and she smiles, shaking her head, but cannot bring her lips to form words. He gives her a look, narrowed eyes suspicious, but not accusatory, and that is all that the Gigi needs him to be. As long as he keeps eating, she doesn’t care about anything else anymore. 

He had always been a quick eater, and Gigi clears the plate to the sink. She fees her gut churning with frustration, and closes her eyes. 

This wasn’t forever. She knew it wasn’t forever, but every moment was starting to feel like days, and she is just so tired. 

Suddenly there is a loud thump from upstairs, and Gigi freezes. Richard loudly clears his throat, coughing a little into the sleeve of his shirt. “What the hell?” There is a touch of something new in his voice, a panic that Gigi can’t really imagine. She figures he must be in pain, must have something telling him that something is wrong, even the most base instinct, but he would never think negatively of her. She was just a wife, after all. 

“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice as light as she can make it. 

“That sound?” He’s wincing forward now, clutching his stomach. “What was in that sauce?” 

“Nothing special.”

Gigi exits back into the dining room, straight past her dying husband, and makes her way up to Crystal. Richard is choking now, and Gigi cannot bare to look back at him, as a moment of pain shoots through her chest. She’s not a bad person. She would never have imagined this for herself when they married. And yet, it’s gone as soon as it appears, when she finds Crystal standing sheepishly in the doorway of the bathroom. 

“Sorry.” Crystal mouths, and Gigi dismisses her with a wave of her hand, grinning at the sight of her. Crystal is haphazardly dressed in her own shirt and pants, her shoes in her hands and all the buttons done wrong. She’s adorable, and it makes the scene in the kitchen fade away from the edges of Gigi’s mind. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Gigi says, her voce strong and at full volume, and Crystal seems confused, but does not ask. 

“I needed to pee, and almost flushed the toilet, and tripped when I tried to stop myself.” She still whispering, insisting on explaining herself, because she knows what the risk is. She knows what goes on in Gigi’s mind, and in her kitchen, and does not get involved. Its not her place, in her own words, and she is not confused for long. 

Gigi just draws her in near, holding her hips flush against her own, and takes in the scent of sex and comfort that still lingers on Crystal’s skin. Crystal’s eyes are locked on hers, searching for consent to close the distance between them. Gigi loves her for it, loves the way her chin tilts, trying to get as close as possibly until she gets it. So, Gigi closes the distance, and Crystal’s hand swoops up to cup her jaw. 

They kiss with passion in the dark hall, Gigi nipping absently at Crystal’s lips, listening to her giggle and melting internally at the sound. Its wonderful, and its interrupted much too quickly for Gigi’s liking, by the sound of violent coughing below them. 

Crystal breaks away, and Gigi can sense the question in her eyes. “Yes.” She says, answering her without detail, and she draws away from her, reaching back for Crystal’s hand as she leads her silently back to the bedroom. There, she quickly locates her suitcase, and throws it onto the bed. 

“Are we leaving?” Crystal sounds too excited by the prospect. Gigi turns as she gathers some of her favourite outfits from the wardrobe, and her stance softens at the sight. Crystal is sat on the bed, toying with the sheets, and watching her with shiny eyes that speak volumes more than her words. Gigi needs only to smile at her for Crystal to kick herself into gear, jumping up to help her pack. 

It’s a quick job, and Crystal fixes her shirt while Gigi freshens up in the bathroom, taking a quick look around at the only place in the house that offered her true solace, no matter who she shared it with. The privacy of this room, looking at her own face in the mirror, is where she has come to terms with herself, her feelings. Her plans. Her new normal. 

Its only for a moment, but she’s almost sad. She didn’t start this day planning on leaving, but it’s been something she has been semi prepared for for some time. She’s known since she first managed to school her courage and press her lips shakily to Crystal’s that she would eventually escape. That she had too. But there is something to be said of leaving the safety of these four walls. 

When she finally leaves, Crystal takes her hand, and they make their way through the house. They ignore Richard’s body, covered in vomit and slumped on the table, and make sure to snag the rat poison from the kitchen, before Gigi takes the car keys from the dish by the door, and they make their way out into the sun. 

Susan is standing outside, clipping her rose garden, and Gigi waves when she catches their eye. She waves back, confused but not alarmed at the sight. The friendship between the two women now making their way to Richard’s car was not unknown to the community, and that fact would hide them for enough time that they could escape the suburbs at least. 

Climbing into the car is surreal. Gigi is not a good driver, and thus is not allowed to borrow the car even on a good day, but Crystal rests her hand on her thigh, and calms her nerves. They need to stop off at her house to collect some of her belongings before they set off, but Gigi isn’t thinking of anything but the open road. Of being with Crystal in a motel somewhere that night, holding her and thinking of where they might go next. Maybe Mexico, that made the most sense. Crystal could already speak the language, and Gigi is sure she could pick it up if she tried hard enough. 

No one would follow them there. 

The car starts with a thundering whir, and Gigi doesn’t think it’ll take them that far, but she has all the money she could grab from the lockbox, and Crystal has money too. They could make it far enough away from all this, make a new life together. It was all possible. 

Crystal never withdraws her hand, the silent comfort Gigi needs to push the car into drive. They could do this. Because she was in love, and that was as normal as blueberry pie.

**Author's Note:**

> the tweet in question
> 
> https://twitter.com/essenceofhalls/status/1273612814003965954?s=20
> 
> Follow me on twitter if you want updates on what I'm writing and up too. Also maybe leave a comment? idk, that would be cool


End file.
